New Year's Traditions
by OverlyDramatic
Summary: Traditions are nice, but sometimes it's worth waiting. I am aware this story is a day late and I've already done a New Year's fic, lol. Couldn't help it.


Yes, I know this is a day late, quite short and not the story I should be working on. It just randomly came to me while I was staring apathetically at my ceiling, trying to think of something for FoF. Okay, I lied. I was reading and a line inspired me; but the former sounds so much more productive. So, here's a random weird drabble.

**Disclaimer: Yeah, and I kissed someone at midnight, too. **

She didn't know how she had been roped into coming. She supposed it came with being Derek Venturi's girlfriend, but anyone who knew her also knew she wasn't a trophy to be paraded around. It was the look in his eyes that did her in; that untold longing he would never admit mixed with his usual smug demeanor and the hint of mischief in his face. However it irritated her, it excited her too. So here she was, head peering over the crowd in search of Emily while she tried to ignore the hockey conversation Derek was now engaging in.

"Hey, Case," Emily greeted, catching sight of her friend from across the hall and coming to meet her. "You remember Haley, right?"

"Yeah, English?" Casey remembered, a question to her tone. The girl nodded and smiled a greeting. Glancing back at the group of boys, Casey settled down for an actual conversation that didn't involve sports, poor hygiene, or random spurts of blood. She really didn't know why she had stayed that long, aside from the fact that she hadn't found Emily and she was hoping the hockey players would leave. No such luck. In fact, they seemed determined to deprive her of any company, as they wandered over as soon as the girls had started talking, looking Emily and Haley over with lecherous grins.

"Hello, ladies," the brutish looking one flirted. She didn't bother keeping their names straight anymore.

"Hey yourself," Emily responded coyly, glancing at the ground before making demure eye contact. Casey sometimes wondered if she had any sense of feminism, but deep down she couldn't blame her.

Casey considered leaving as the interested boys pursued the fairly interested girls, pushing her to the outskirts. Just as she turned to go, a hand wrapped around her waist, cementing her in place.

"Having fun?" Derek asked casually as she pivoted to look him in the eyes.

"So you're ready to talk to me now?" she asked, raising a prim eyebrow.

"They're my friends," he shrugged, completely unapologetic. "Besides, you found Emily, didn't you?" Rolling her eyes, she gave him a vaguely complacent smile, though a hint of a threat lurked at the corners of her mouth. Laughing, he spun her around to a less crowded area

"You better not ditch me again," she warned, irritated by the look on his face, the one that said he knew he got what he wanted, again.

"Whatever," he responded, but the amused roll of his eyes told her he was teasing; at least mostly. Sighing exasperatedly through a smile, she grabbed one of the few unopened sodas on the table, wrinkling her nose slightly before popping the lid and taking a sip. "I thought you didn't drink soda," he observed, raising an eyebrow at the beverage.

"I'm thirsty," she rebutted, waving her drink laden hand in the direction of the bare snack table.

"You could always have some punch," he quipped, looking at her suggestively. "Have a little fun."

"Tell you what," she replied, but her tone had a lecturing quality. "I'll drink the punch and you can stay up all night mopping up puke."

"Deal," he responded easily, and she knocked his shoulder, giving him a look from the corner of her eye before setting her drink on the table and grabbing his hand.

"Come on," she ordered, pulling him towards the center of the room, where several party-goers had taken advantage of the surround sound stereo. "Let's dance."

"Ca-sey," he groaned, but she ignored it and he allowed her to drag him into the midst of the crowd. He had discovered long before that watching her dance was a hell of a lot more fun than dancing himself, so he took the opportunity he was given, shifting his feet enough to keep Casey satisfied.

"Derek," she said pointedly, rolling her eyes and laughing. Shooting her an innocent look, he refused to change his tactics.

Finally, the dance floor began winding down, and though Casey would have liked to stay, she knew Derek was past his limit—probably had been from the moment he stepped out. She allowed him to guide her back to the edge of the room, close enough to watch the anxious crowd but far enough away not to be disturbed. Someone announced two minutes, and Casey turned to her boyfriend.

"You know," she said factually, a hint of shy slyness underlying her tone. "It's tradition for people to kiss at midnight for the New Year."

Derek watched her, a slight gleam in his eye, but merely nodded, raising a bored eyebrow, and murmuring, "Hmm?"

She watched him as the clock counted down, gauging his response to her somewhat obvious proclamation. He didn't seem to be paying any mind as the room suddenly got very quite, then at once began to count down. 10, 9, 8. She turned her head to watch the few straggling dancers. 7, 6, 5. He smirked at her slightly, catching the corner of her eye. 4, 3, 2. She turned to face him, watching him expectantly. 1. The crowd erupted into a cacophony of sound, punctuated by the wild silence of the room heralding the New Year with kisses. She held her breath in anticipation, biting her lip but staring at him boldly. His position shifted, and she half-closed her eyes in anticipation. Nothing happened. Fully reopening her eyes, she stared at him blankly, frustration spreading to her face. He had indeed leaned forward, but now hovered tantalizingly six inches from her face. His amused smirk grew at the look on her face, and he drew back, leaning cockily against the couch just behind them. She leaned back as well, but her stance reeked of irritation as she crossed her arms against her chest. She wasn't being petulant about it, of course. If he didn't want to kiss her, that was his prerogative. Still, he didn't need to be rude about it. And what kind of guy didn't want to kiss their girlfriend?

"So much for tradition," she grumbled, half under her breath, and he ignored the comment though she knew he heard her.

They stood side by side, her stiffly and him casually, neither bothering to move, as they observed the room and the events winding down.

"Screw tradition," he said flippantly some minutes later, bending down to place a warm kiss on her mouth well after the well-wishers had begun to disperse in search of their previous activities. His kiss caught her off guard, as he had obviously intended, and left her breathless and flushed the way only surprises can. He smiled down at her, a hint of softness mingled with his control and arrogance. Derek always did manage to surprise her.

**UUUUUU**

Yes, I went there. I promised myself I'd never do a "they're already dating" fic, but I just couldn't help myself. This is in response to all those people who seem to think life will be sunshine and roses and moonlight declarations of love after Casey and Derek get together (in our minds). Which isn't to say there won't be a little fluff. This doesn't deal with the intricacies, just the personalities, really. No real plot of which to speak, and I wrote it in about twenty minutes. Hope you enjoyed it anyway. Tell me what you think, if you would be so kind.


End file.
